


Life (of) Surprise

by MordorIsCalling



Series: The Singer and the Sailor AU [4]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Background Eskel/Essi Daven, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Family Fluff, Famous Jaskier | Dandelion, Fluff and Humor, Idiots in Love, Implied/Referenced Abortion, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Royal Navy officer Geralt, Singer Jaskier | Dandelion, This fic is gonna go Happy-Sad-Happy just so you know, Trauma, Wedding Fluff, background Lambert/Aiden - Freeform, but briefly I promise, like really Idiots, no beta we are feral like Jaskier, uh... kind of?
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-22
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-16 22:40:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,168
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29339928
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MordorIsCalling/pseuds/MordorIsCalling
Summary: The problem is firstly that lying to his mum got him a boyfriend and secondly that Jaskier is besotted with said boyfriend. So, in his love-addled mind, he concludes that lying to his mum again is a splendid idea – it may as well get him a husband.“If all goes well, the wedding should be next year.”At least, itbetter be. Jaskier and Geralt are going to the coast tomorrow.OrJaskier lies to his family about being engaged to Geralt for the second time... and there are way too many surprises involved.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: The Singer and the Sailor AU [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2076129
Comments: 35
Kudos: 92





	1. I - A Surprise Is Born

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This fic is the last part of this series. The three previous fics are a long read so let me recap the story real quick:
> 
> \- Jaskier lied to his mum about having a fiance before his father's birthday party. He then had to make a silly post about looking for someone who'd be willing to pretend to be his fiance. Lambert tagged Geralt as a joke in the comments. Eventually, Geralt ended up agreeing to it. To make it believable, Geralt and Jaskier exchanged "engagement" rings. Geralt wore a silver band with engravings of buttercups. Jaskier wore a gold signet with a three-dimensional head of a wolf.
> 
> \- Geralt was a Royal Navy commander about to retire. During the family party, Jaskier and Geralt decided to try being together but then it turned out that Geralt would be sent on one last employment. Jaskier wanted to be with Geralt anyway and Geralt gave in.
> 
> \- Jaskier and Geralt stayed together during the deployment, which lasted 11 months. They had video calls at least once a week. It wasn't easy at all but they got through it. Geralt started calling Jaskier "his siren". Jaskier wrote many love songs for "his sailor".
> 
> \- Jaskier has a good relationship with his family. He's especially close to his mum, Wanda, and his sisters, Rozalia and Amelia. Rozalia is one year older than him, Amelia is five years younger. The Pankratz siblings are all in their thirties.
> 
> \- Geralt is in his early forties. He and Yennefer are divorced but they have amicable relations and raise teenage Ciri together. Ciri is a fan of Jaskier's music and she was the reason Geralt agreed to the pretended engagement thing in the first place.
> 
> \- Geralt returned home a little bit more than a year ago. Now it's time for Jaskier to reach peak dumbassery again.
> 
> Hope you enjoy! 💕💕

The little tap against his hand is so delicate that Jaskier almost misses it. When he does catch it, it feels so monumental that his breath is taken away. It’s a good thing he’s sitting at Amelia’s knees because his legs would’ve given away under him. His eyes well up with tears as he looks up at his younger sister, who smiles down at him softly. She’s seated between Rozalia and Nasir, the child’s father, on one of the couches in the living room. She seems to be glowing like an angel in the sunlight that falls into the room through the doors open to the back garden.

Jaskier is very close to crying as he glances back at Amelia’s prominent baby bump. It’s such a fascinating thing, that his little niece isn’t even born yet but Jaskier already loves her so fiercely.

“Have you chosen a name yet?” he asks hoarsely.

Amelia and Nasir share a look, and it’s plain to see that there’s some awkwardness between them still. Amelia said they’d been trying to get to know each other better for the past eight months but they’re not as relaxed around each other as a couple would be.

This kind of thing simply happens. Sometimes new life makes itself known a few weeks after a night of passion, surprising both parties involved, and the two people decide to become parents even though they aren’t interested in being together. At least Nasir seems to be a good sort – caring about Amelia’s well-being and invested in the baby’s life. Not that he has any other choice. Jaskier and Rozalia are a force of holy terror together and there wouldn’t be any nook on the planet where Nasir could hide from their wrath if he did their little sister any wrong.

“We want it to be a surprise,” Nasir replies with a smile, his voice is like velvet and molten chocolate.

He’s _very_ handsome, Jaskier has to give Amelia that. Not as handsome as Geralt, though; no one is. That’s Jaskier’s admittedly biased but still completely reasonable opinion, if he does say so himself.

Jaskier keeps his hand on Amelia’s belly, waiting for the baby to kick again. It’s the first time that he’s felt the little one move – working on a new album and concerts kept him busy – and he’s almost high on it. Rozalia talks to Nasir about his medical profession but Jaskier only half-listens, too focused on his niece. Soon, she kicks again, stronger this time, and Amelia hisses in pain.

“Are you all right?” Jaskier asks her, with a gravity that doesn’t exactly fit the situation.

Amelia gets that sharp look in her eye and Rozalia does too, which is a good thing. They both understand what he’s _really_ asking. 

Only Rozalia and Jaskier know that Amelia was pregnant once before, almost a decade ago. She wasn’t ready for motherhood back then, so she made a decision she’s never regretted making. Jaskier doesn’t want her to regret this choice either.

“I’m okay,” Amelia reassures, “This whole thing is a bit terrifying and definitely hurts sometimes, but it’s not bad.”

 _Not bad_ means _not bad at all, I like it_ in Amelia-speak. Jaskier is relieved to hear and he can see that Rozalia is too.

None of the Pankratz siblings has ever truly been inclined towards parenthood. Rozalia and Silvio don’t want to have children. Jaskier can barely keep himself alive most days, leave alone a kid. Amelia always said she was on the fence about it.

Until now, it seems.

Jaskier is _ecstatic_. He can't wait to spoil his little niece rotten, already willing to give her the world. After he started spending time with Cirilla, he's grown to adore caring for a child, even to the point of regretting not having one of his own (and he _does_ know what a terrible idea that would be, thank you very much). He's going to be the best uncle in the world; he doesn't do anything by halves.

Jaskier manages to catch one more kick before his mum walks into the living room, ushering him, Rozalia, Amelia and Nasir to the garden, where the rest of the family waits, already sitting by the table.

Dinner passes pleasantly. Everybody is in good mood, the food is delicious, and the April afternoon is warm and lovely. The wonderful atmosphere lulls Jaskier into a false sense of security. He honestly should’ve seen it coming but he’s too busy cherishing the moment. The words catch him completely off guard.

“Well, Julek, look at your sisters!” his mum says, “Rozalia is married, Amelia is having a baby. When will _you_ settle down, darling? What are you and Geralt waiting for?”

Everyone’s eyes are on him and Jaskier panics. Confessing to his family that he and Geralt have actually been engaged for zero days would be rather awkward at this point. They believe that Jaskier’s known his “fiancé” for four years and has been engaged to him for half of that time. To them, it seems reasonable that Jaskier and Geralt should marry.

The truth is that Jaskier and Geralt have been a couple for two years and two months. Although they keep pretending to be engaged in front of Jaskier’s family (because they find it hilarious) and still wear the rings (because they got attached to them), they haven’t talked about marriage yet. Jaskier knows he shouldn’t rush it. However, there has arisen a certain problem.

The problem is firstly that lying to his mum got him a boyfriend and secondly that Jaskier is besotted with said boyfriend. So, in his love-addled mind, Jaskier concludes that lying to his mum again is a splendid idea – it may as well get him a husband.

“Ah, well,” he answers, “I wanted to surprise you when the invitations are ready.”

“ _What?!_ ” his family collectively screech.

“Yeah,” he replies, putting on his most convincing dreamy smile, “If all goes well, the wedding should be next year.”

At least, it _better be_. Jaskier and Geralt are going to the coast tomorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Jaskier is going to have a baby niece 🥺🥺🥺 When I imagine him as an uncle it just makes me melt ❤️
> 
> Next chapter: the proposal and the surprise that comes after.
> 
> Please toss a comment if you'd like 💙💛


	2. II - A Surprise Is Uttered

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A fair warning: the first part of this chapter is the most romantic shit I've ever written. It's just more than 1,5k words of shameless, self-indulgent sweetness. It's just so... ajDNXJBXJH. (Oh, and then the story gets sad). 
> 
> Enjoy! 💕

The day begins with a sleepless night. For Geralt, not Jaskier. Jaskier is a heavy sleeper, so he has no idea about it until nature’s call wakes him up at half-past three in the morning. The bed is empty so, after relieving herself, Jaskier looks around the house and finds Geralt sitting by the kitchen table. His face is hidden in his hands and there’s an empty mug next to him. It’s the third night in a row that he hasn’t slept at all and Jaskier’s heart breaks for him a little.

They’re supposed to take a little trip to Brighton and return in the afternoon, before Yennefer drops Ciri off at Geralt’s after school. Now, Jaskier decides that the plan changes. In half an hour, they’re both ready to set out. Geralt drives because he already had coffee.

The drive passes in silence. Jaskier dozes off in his seat for some time but after the sun rises, it’s too bright outside for sleeping, and he wakes up slowly. They arrive in Brighton a few minutes after six. Save for occasional joggers and people walking their dogs, the streets are blissfully empty, and so is the beach.

It’s just a quiet, sunny morning like any other. In short: perfect. Jaskier doesn’t have to worry about someone photographing him, or anyone (quite) possibly seeing his proposal being rejected.

The air is slightly chilly as they stand at the shore, the waves almost touching their shoes. Geralt doesn’t say anything, only looks at the water. Jaskier watches him bask in the closeness of the sea. The delicate morning sunlight accentuates all his wrinkles in a stunning way and his white hair is lit up like a halo, gentle breeze ruffling it slightly. Jaskier takes in Geralt’s strong profile, his pretty stubble and his tired, tired eyes, and he thinks to himself that he loves this man so.

Jaskier can’t help but recall everything that happened since Geralt’s return, the good and the bad. All the times Jaskier pushed too far or Geralt was too gruff. The piano lessons with Ciri, and the adorable look on Geralt’s face when he concentrates on playing. The quiet weekends they sometimes manage to squeeze into their lives. Geralt chuckling at Yennefer’s disgusted expression after Jaskier asks her if she’s off to do “hot girl shit” again. (Jaskier _knows_ she actually loves that phrase). How Geralt’s insecurities get better of him some days and he turns into a brooding idiot. The way the two of them are able to have a conversation without words, the way their bodies move against each other when they have sex. The smell of Geralt's sweat after he works out. 

How, when they stay over at Geralt’s house, Geralt is always annoyed that Jaskier doesn’t wash the dishes right after using them. How, when they stay over at Jaskier’s house, Geralt _always_ forgets to take his shoes off, much to Jaskier’s dismay. How Geralt is an annoyingly good cook but he’s also really shit at paying the bills on time. How he doesn’t allow Jaskier anywhere near kitchen appliances, which wounds Jaskier’s pride.

All of Geralt’s mannerisms. How he’s grumpy by default but then sees a dog. How Jaskier sometimes wants to talk very much but Geralt doesn’t. How Geralt delivers freaking sermons sometimes. That one time they managed to go out for a drink with Aiden, Eskel and Lambert, and Eskel started talking about his retirement plan involving goat yoga. Lambert nearly went batshit crazy, insisting that there was no way that something like goat yoga existed. Eskel and Jaskier tried to demonstrate how that would work, with Jaskier pretending to be a goat. Lambert, Geralt and Aiden almost pissed themselves laughing. The following day, Ciri woke Geralt and Jaskier by blasting a techno remix of _Her Sweet Kiss_ so loud that the windows rattled. Then Yennefer made them go grocery shopping despite their killer hungover.

How Geralt holds him when unpleasant memories haunt him. How Geralt’s brutally honest when some of his songs suck. How he looks at Jaskier when he sings. His smothering gaze when he calls Jaskier his siren. How he makes sure that Jaskier eats and drinks when he forgets about it himself. How Geralt stands by him and supports him in his career, withstanding all the paparazzi nonsense even though he hates it with passion. How Geralt doesn’t want to know him for who he knows, how he’s always there for Jaskier and never asks for a thing in return.

All of this, and Jaskier suddenly doesn’t know where to start. He only knows that he wants to keep this man in his life so much that there’s hardly any air left in his lungs. His heart is hammering in his chest, his hands are sweating, and he decides to begin with what’s safe.

“Hey, Geralt,” he says, “I love you very, very much, you know that?”

Geralt hmms an affirmative and looks at him. There’s a smile on his face and warmth in his gaze as he answers, “I love you too.”

His golden eyes stand out against the blue of the cloudless sky. Jaskier slowly drowns in them, only the sound of the waves reaching his ears. It seems like only the two of them matter in the world and the reality is a safe distance away. In this state, almost hypnotized, Jaskier simply does what he has to do and gets down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” Geralt demands with a sowl. 

His tone isn’t exactly a good sign. Jaskier flashes him a shaky smile and reaches for his hand. Then, he slides the buttercup ring halfway down Geralt’s finger. He didn’t buy a new ring; there’s no need for it really. He only needs to give their old rings new meaning on this seemingly meaningless April morning.

“Geralt, I-I,” he stutters out. His heart is beating so fast that he can’t breathe. He makes himself look up at Geralt, who stares down at him with a frown. Jaskier smiles nervously and forces the words out, “Will you... will you marry me?”

Geralt’s eyes widen and his mouth opens in shock. The silence drags on like eternity and Geralt doesn’t move a single muscle. When he finally does, his lips slowly quirk upwards and his whole face lights up with the tiniest, shiest joy. Jaskier is about to sigh in relief but then Geralt’s answer comes.

“Jaskier,” he grumbles, “get up, you’ll ruin your trousers.”

His trousers are white and it’s indeed a bad idea to kneel on the wet pebbles. As Jaskier gets up, his heart sinks and his head hangs low. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles, “This doesn’t have to mean anything, I just–”

He’s still holding on to Geralt’s hand and the ring, so he starts taking it off Geralt’s finger completely. Geralt stops him, though. Jaskier watches in amazement as Geralt’s muscular hands guide his own so that he slips the silver band back on Geralt’s finger.

When the realisation hits him, Jaskier gasps. He looks up at his _fianc_ _é,_ for real this time, and sees Geralt’s whole expression is alight with happiness. The sight takes his breath away. “Geralt...” he begins, but what Geralt does next takes away his ability to speak.

Geralt fucking _kneels._ Then, he takes Jaskier’s hand and slides the golden wolf signet off Jaskier’s finger. As Geralt looks up at him, he raises an eyebrow in silent question. Jaskier, still rendered speechless, only gives a jerky nod. Geralt grins like he almost never does, sharp teeth on display, and slides Jaskier’s ring back on.

The next moment is a blur. Jaskier, blinded by joy, wants to throw himself at Geralt. Geralt seems to want the same thing because he meets Jaskier halfway. Their bodies collide and they almost fall into the water but Geralt steadies them. Then, they’re standing up, and Geralt holds him tight, so tight that Jaskier may get bruises. Jaskier doesn’t care about that. He’s laughing and Geralt is smiling, truly smiling, and they pepper kisses all over each other’s faces.

“Please say it,” Jaskier whispers hoarsely, “just that one little word,”

Geralt huffs a laugh. He pecks Jaskier on the cheek, then murmurs into his ear, “Yes.”

It’s just one word but it’s said it the gravelly baritone Jaskier will never be tired of hearing, and his heart almost bursts with all he feels at that moment. The need to kiss Geralt stupid is stronger than ever, so he does exactly that. Burying his hands in Geralt’s hair, he brings their mouths together. Geralt lets out a pleased hum and sneaks his strong arms around Jaskier’s waist. The kiss resembles their very first one during the birthday party – it’s deep and slow, the best kind of passionate.

It takes them some time to break apart. When they do, they take off their shoes and take a walk along the shore, ankle-deep in the cold water, holding hands and talking. When Jaskier sees a little fish, he starts naming all the fish that he knows while Geralt laughs at him. Then Geralt wets his hand in the sea and puts it against Jaskier’s nape because he’s a bastard. They’re a moment away from splashing war when Jaskier’s stomach rumbles loudly. The two of them realise that they’re both hungry, so they embark on a search of some nice restaurant. Eventually, they find one and treat themselves to a big breakfast. Jaskier drinks coffee but forbids Geralt from having one, to Geralt’s immense displeasure. He steals a sausage from Jaskier’s plate as revenge but Jaskier physically can’t be mad at him today. His grumpy expression makes Jaskier melt.

The drive back passes in silence. Jaskier sits behind the wheel; the coffee Geralt had at night is wearing off and he’s too tired. Geralt sits in the front passenger seat with his eyes closed the whole way back but he’s not sleeping. His thoughts often don’t let him sleep, Jaskier knows.

They return before noon. Walking into Geralt’s house feels different somehow, now that they’re truly engaged. As soon as the front door closes behind them, Jaskier drags Geralt in for a kiss. Way too soon, Geralt breaks it... because he needs to yawn.

Jaskier laughs and says, “C’mon, my jolly sailor bold, you need a nap.”

Geralt grunts but doesn’t argue. They go to Geralt’s bedroom upstairs and change into comfortable sweats and "for home" t-shirts, stealing some kisses in the meantime. Geralt closes the thick curtains and they lay down in the bed, facing each other. Jaskier shifts closer until he can tuck Geralt's head under his chin and run his hands through Geralt’s hair while Geralt rubs his palms up and down Jaskier’s back.

It’s one of their favourite ways to cuddle. They say nothing for some time, simply enjoying the closeness. Jaskier’s lost in his head, picturing how Geralt’s family is going to react to the development in their relationship, but then he suddenly remembers what he said to his own family yesterday.

“Geralt?”

“Hm?”

“What would you say about marrying next spring?”

Geralt opens his eyes and squints at him. “So soon?”

“I’ve always wanted to have a May wedding,” Jaskier answers. It’s not even a lie. After he and Geralt got together, he’s started fantasising about his own wedding for the first in his life and, in his mind, it always happens in May. 

Geralt watches him closely, clearly sensing that there’s something he isn’t being told, and damn him for reading Jaskier so well. Jaskier tries not to squirm under the golden stare, as unforgiving as the sun, doing his best not to let his fear show. Jaskier will have to tell Geralt about the circumstances of their engagement one day, and when he does, Geralt may take it _extremely_ the wrong way.

“I’ll think about it,” Geralt says finally. 

It’s not a no but it’s not a yes either. Jaskier can’t have that, so he brings out the big guns and innocently suggests, “We could marry at sea, you know.”

A pause.

“Hmm.”

It’s definitely an intrigued hmm. Jaskier presses on, “I could rent us a yacht. Or a boat. Or a big ship, even. Whatever you want.”

There’s a moment when Geralt doesn’t even breathe. Then, he heaves a long, resigned sigh, and Jaskier smiles in victory.

“Damn you, Jaskier,” Geralt mutters tiredly, “Damn you.”

Jaskier chuckles and kisses Geralt on the forehead, earning himself a happy hum. He keeps running his fingers through Geralt's hair and begins to sing softly. It's the first [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Da5qQD_RpEQ&ab_channel=KALEO) Jaskier wrote for Geralt; Jaskier knows that his fiancé has a particular fondness for it. As he croons lyrics about woods and the Fae, Geralt's breathing starts slowing. After he finally falls asleep, Jaskier lets himself doze off too. 

***

“ _Dad!_ ”

Jaskier jerks awake, opening his eyes just in time to see Geralt do the same. There’s a moment when they stare at each other in confusion. Then, Cirilla’s wails reach their ears, and Jaskier’s blood runs cold. In an instant, there’s pure, unadulterated _terror_ written all over Geralt’s face. He gets up lighting fast and rushes out of the bedroom. Jaskier follows right after him.

“ _Dad!_ ” she shrieks again.

“ _Ciri!_ ” Geralt shouts, completely frantic, as they run down the stairs.

Cirilla meets them at the bottom of the stairs. Her face is red from crying, her cheeks wet. She falls into his arms and buries her face in her father’s chest, sobs tearing through her frame.

“Ciri,” Geralt breathes out, running his shaking hands all over the girl’s body in search of any injuries.

Ciri appears physically unharmed but still, something is definitely very, _very_ wrong. The girl keeps bawling her eyes in Geralt’s embrace while her father strokes her head soothingly. Jaskier finds it to be a truly gut-wrenching thing to witness, and he isn’t even Ciri’s relative. He can scarcely imagine what Geralt is feeling, though a good portion of his fear and worry shows on his face. Jaskier, in an attempt to comfort Ciri and Geralt, puts his arms around them both.

“What happened?” Geralt asks, his voice hushed and gentle.

Cirilla cries harder and Geralt’s face scrunches up in pain he feels for her. Jaskier’s heart breaks for them both.

“Dara,” Ciri finally chokes out, “He wasn’t at school today and didn’t text me back and... He called me just before I walked in and told me... “ Her body starts shivering. “There was a fire at his house, dad, only he...” She trails off and wails. “His parents and brother didn’t...”

Jaskier gasps and Geralt curses.

“He has nowhere to go, dad,” Ciri adds, “no relatives in the country, he has nothing....”

Ciri weeps on while Jaskier looks at Geralt helplessly. He silently asks Geralt what to do and Geralt answers with a slight shake of his head. Jaskier purses his lips and racks his brain while Ciri slowly begins to calm down. Finally, he gets an idea. 

“Sweetheart, did he tell you where he is now?”

“Yeah,” Ciri replies, her face still hidden in Geralt’s chest, “Why?”

“Well... My house has more than enough room for two.”

***

The day ends in a sleepless night. For Jaskier, not Geralt. Geralt, just like Ciri, collapsed from exhaustion around an hour ago in one of the bedrooms in Jaskier’s house. Jaskier, unfortunately, can’t say that about himself. Too much has happened for one day and he still hasn’t processed even half of it.

It’s almost midnight. Jaskier sits on the couch in his living room, strumming his acoustic guitar idly and trying not to think about the dead look Dara had in his eyes the whole day. When Jaskier pictures what kind of trauma the boy has just gone through, he wants to scream.

The sight of Dara himself snaps him back to reality. He acknowledges Jaskier with a nod and goes to the kitchen, which is open to the living room. Jaskier watches in the corner of his eye as Dara pours himself a glass of water and drinks. The air around is still, awfully so, and Jaskier itches to break the oppressive silence.

“You can’t sleep too?” he says.

“Yeah,” Dara answers quietly.

“You can sit here with me if you want.”

Dara hesitates for a moment but then comes over and sits down next to Jaskier awkwardly. He and Jaskier did meet before but they never talked much. Usually, Ciri would just say that the two of them are going somewhere before dragging Dara away. Jaskier’s aware that he’s a stranger to him and he certainly has _no idea_ how to act around a person who’s currently experiencing the worst kind of nightmare that they can’t wake up from. Still, if there’s one thing he knows, it’s the fact that music can be a cure for many ailments.

“Any requests you’d like to make of this humble bard?” he asks, gesturing at himself theatrically.

“I like Metallica,” Dara replies with a shrug.

Jaskier smiles. “Ah, good taste!”

After a moment of thought, his fingers strum the strings and the first notes of [_The Unforgiven_](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mmIXwYkDs9k&ab_channel=Metallica-Topic) ring out in the air. Dara tenses but Jaskier decides to go on. When he sings, he pours all his emotions into it: how much his heart aches for the boy, how he wishes to ease his pain. His voice is mournful but strong and Dara listens to him carefully. During the second chorus, the boy’s eyes glaze over. Jaskier’s voice cracks. A tear rolls down Dara’s cheek, then another, and another. Jaskier plays on and Dara starts crying in earnest. 

The same couch that Ciri and Geralt sat on when Jaskier met them for the first time, the same couch that Jaskier and Geralt sat on when they exchanged their rings before the birthday party, now Dara sits and weeps, his face hidden in his hands.

Jaskier almost breaks down in tears himself but he fights it – he has to finish. His voice is loud and clear as he sings the last verses, openly but unapologetically raw because that’s how the song should be sung. That’s how this moment should feel.

After the last notes of the song die down, only the sound of Dara’s sobs can be heard. Jaskier’s looks at the mourning boy, only sixteen and left with nothing, and wants to _help_.

“Do you need a hug?” he asks hoarsely.

Dara nods and Jaskier moves closer, putting his arms around the boy’s shoulders. Dara leans against him and cries, and _cries_.

As they sit there, Jaskier thinks to himself that he has lived a life of immense privilege. There were times when it was bad, like his serious health problems in childhood. There were moments when it was even worse, like when his dad’s drinking spiralled out of control when he was a teenager. The memories of that time still make him shudder. Yet, all ended well in the end. Jaskier’s a healthy man, his dad is sober. Jaskier's career pays very well. He doesn’t have greater problems than pursuing his dreams, and he realises there are scarcely any people with similar lives in the world.

People like him, Jaskier muses, should learn to put their own wants and needs aside more than anyone.

“Hey, Dara,” he says, feeling shy possibly for the first time in his life. He swallows down the nervousness constricting his throat and says, “I know this can be a weird question, you don’t even know me, but... Would you like to stay? You could live here, at least until everything, well, settles down. ”

Dara doesn’t reply for a long time. When he does, his answer is just, “Okay.”

The single word is said so quietly that Jaskier almost misses it. When he does catch it, and it feels so monumental that his breath is taken away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok but no.1: I think Jaskier would absolutely _kill_ "The Unforgiven". I can imagine the song in Joey's voice sooo clearly 
> 
> Ok but no.2: the Brighton & Hove beaches is one of the most romantic settings I can imagine. The memory and the charm of that place still haunt me. Fuck COVID, I wanted to go there again ;-; 
> 
> Also, Jaskier gets himself a fiance and a kid it literally one day??? Imagine that. (Poor Dara tho :<<<)
> 
> Anyway, I'd love to hear your thoughts ❤️Please consider tossing a comment 💛💙


	3. III - A Surprise Realisation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooof, last week was _intense_. Severe insomnia and an important deadline dropped by at the same time and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. I'm much better now, thankfully. I finally have got some time and energy to do more than stay in bed and fight for the strength to do any kind of cognitive task, so what am I gonna do? Write fanfic, of course! 
> 
> So, the chapter count went up to 5. I decided to split ch3 into two smaller ones because that will allow me to update more frequently. Also, I just can't stop writing this AU? I literally can't get enough of this story. Although this chapter is still the Sad part of this fic (Geralt and Jaskier have a serious argument, so brace yourselves), the following chapters are gonna be pure fluff. Like, 100% pointless cuteness just because we need it. 
> 
> For those who haven't read the previous works in this series, there's one thing I should mention:  
> \- During the eleven months of Geralt's deployment, Geralt and Jaskier had a conversation about how Jaskier always has to say some things to make his audience feel special. Geralt started wondering whether Jaskier truly means what he says. Now, this problem resurfaces.  
> Hope you enjoy!

Geralt never thought he’d get married again, much less to a man. Leave alone a man like _Jaskier_ , who is loud, bright, and charismatic; unlike Geralt in so many aspects that by all means, their relationship shouldn’t work as well as it does. 

He’s a divorcee. His previous relationships didn’t last. Rationally, he knows he should’ve been more cautious, yet when Jaskier got down on one knee that April morning, Geralt found himself unable to say no. He was so _tired_ that day, but that wasn’t the reason he said yes. He agreed to marry Jaskier because back then – as he looked into Jaskier’s eyes, blue like the cloudless sky above them – he realised that it seemed _right_.

Jaskier’s always accepted Geralt the way he is, with all his problems and mistakes. Jaskier is both safety and adventure. He’s trustworthy and unpredictable; a fascinating contradiction that Geralt could see himself exploring for the rest of his life.

Or so he thought.

“Eight months,” Geralt grits out, his emotions balancing at the edge of fury.

Jaskier says nothing, his eyes cast downwards, standing in the middle of the room with the air of a puppy about to be kicked.

“We’ve been engaged for _eight fucking months_ ,” Geralt growls, “and you’re only telling me this _now_?”

“I wanted to come clean,” Jaskier answers weakly. His voice doesn’t waver.

The steadiness of his voice shouldn’t be surprising, though. Jaskier’s a singer. A performer. A _very_ good one. Geralt didn’t have an issue with that before. The only problem with Jaskier that Geralt’s ever truly had it that Jaskier can be _extremely_ inconsiderate at times.

Now, the former and the latter seem to have merged into something that Geralt isn’t sure he can forgive.

“You didn’t think about doing that _earlier_?” he asks.

It’s New Year’s Eve. They’re in Jaskier’s childhood bedroom, where they’re to sleep for the night. Downstairs, a party is about to begin, with both Jaskier’s and Geralt’s family and closest friends in attendance. Jaskier’s parents, Wanda and Alfred. Rozalia and Silvio, Amelia with Nasir and their daughter. Triss, Essi and Eskel. Aiden and Lambert. Vesemir, Yennefer, Ciri, Dara.

Geralt suspects that everyone is waiting in the dining room already. Yet, _this_ is the moment that Jaskier chose to tell him about the circumstances of their engagement.

“I didn’t have the courage,” Jaskier replies, “I was afraid you’d take it the wrong way.”

“Have _the fuck_ am I supposed to take it any other way?!” Geralt barks, making Jaskier flinch. “You told your family that we’d marry before you _asked me_ to marry you.”

It’s dark outside the tall windows. The only source of light in the room is the chandelier above Jaskier’s head, hanging down from the high ceiling. The lamps cast Jaskier in a warm glow, and to Geralt, it seems as if he saw his fiancé for the first time. There’s a stubborn set to Jaskier’s jaw as he still refuses to look at nowhere but the wooden floor.

“You did that for _what_?” Geralt demands, “So that you look good in front of your family? Is... _us_ some kind of fucking _performance_ for you? Have you been pretending from the –”

“ _No_ ,” Jaskier cuts in. His gaze is finally on Geralt, and he appears genuinely aghast at the notion. “The only pretending I’ve ever done is lying to myself that our engagement was for real the whole time! I told everyone that we’d marry because I wished it so badly to be true! I _wanted_ it to happen, so I said something that would force me to make it happen.”

The confession would be heart-warming if not for the last sentence, which makes Geralt’s blood run cold. He walks up to Jaskier slowly, staring him down, trying to see through the (distracting, deceptive) blue of his eyes.

“You would’ve made it happen?” he murmurs, his emotions treading the dangerous line again, “If I’d said no, would you have persisted? _Manipulated_ _me_ , as you did with the spring wedding?”

A broken noise escapes Jaskier’s lips. “That wasn’t my intention! I’m so sorry that I made you feel this way. Please forgive me, I never meant it like that–”

“I’m starting to doubt every word you say,” Geralt interrupts, because now their nearly three years together feel _fake_.

Jaskier takes a step back, hurt written all over his features. Tears well up in his eyes as he exclaims, “ _I’m not lying!_ I’m not lying when I say that you’re the only one that I want to marry.”

Geralt doesn’t want to hear it. He moves to walk away but Jaskier grabs him by the arm. “Dammit Jaskier,” he growls, “don’t–”

“ _Listen to me,”_ Jaskier says, insistent.

Geralt tries not to, looks away to distance himself, but Jaskier’s voice is that of a siren – arresting and irresistible, powerful even when hushed.

“I never thought that I’d settle down. I fell in love too easily. One day a woman from the bar would have my heart, and then next it would be a guy at the bus stop. Commitment wasn’t my thing.”

Geralt scowls, about to ask how _that_ information is supposed to help in the current situation, but Jaskier speaks first.

“ _But then_ , then I met someone who’s so deeply fascinating that I can’t stop thinking about him. He’s been through so much and yet he’s nothing but kind and considerate. He has so much presence but he rarely uses it to his advantage. He feels so much and yet he shows nothing. He...” Jaskier chuckles, the sound somehow both warm and sad. “He’s honest with me and calls me out on my mistakes, challenging me to be better. Thanks to him, I don’t stop learning. With him, it seems like... like we’re writing a gripping book. A... a story I want to go on and on.”

A story without an ending may not be a happy one, Geralt muses. He says nothing, though, still looking away, and Jaskier speaks up again.

“From the moment I met you, I’ve wanted you to stay, but perhaps–” he cuts himself off, releasing out a shaky sigh. He lets go of Geralt’s arm at least and then utters, “Perhaps I love you too much. Maybe it’s not healthy, after all.”

Pain seeps through every syllable as Jaskier says this. Geralt has to swallow hard because _that_ , that seems so _wrong_. How can it _not_ be healthy when the only time they truly breathe – truly relax and let go – is as they are around each other?

Geralt stands frozen, listening to Jaskier’s sniffs, and tries to process all that he’s heard. He has to fight his fervent _want_ to believe Jaskier’s loving words. He wishes it to be true, yet the recent revelation’s stained all they’ve been through with the ugly thought that Geralt’s feelings – his _love_ – have just been a fucking box to tick.

The sheer hurt of it settles somewhere deep within him, clawing a hole in his chest, wrenching, pulling all the air out of his lungs. He can’t stand being next to Jaskier anymore and escapes to the bathroom, which is adjacent to the bedroom.

The water is cool as Geralt splashes it all over his face. He tries to take his emotions under control, especially that anger raises within him once more. He’s a moment away from doing some real damage to the furniture.

He doesn’t know how long it takes him to calm down. He assumes that enough time passes for Jaskier to decide to go downstairs without him, which is the only wish he has right now. Yet, as he emerges from the bathroom, it (unsurprisingly) turns out that he can't have what he wants – Jaskier sits there, at the edge of the large bed, his face hidden in his hands. As he hears Geralt approach, he raises his head revealing his dishevelled hair and red-rimmed eyes.

He’s a picture of misery and Geralt heart lurches in sympathy, in a ridiculous need to comfort his fiancé, despite his anger.

They stay like that, staring at each other for a few unbearable moments of heavy, choking silence, until Geralt finally breaks it.

“Dinner must’ve started by now,” he says, “We should go.”

A rasped “okay” is all the answer Jaskier gives.

They don’t pretend that everything is all right. Everybody quickly notices the tension between them and the dinner is a painful affair at the beginning. It’s a miracle that everyone’s managed to gather here today, though. The two families seem determined to make the best of it and the initial awkwardness soon passes. Conversations start flowing and after some time, everyone is getting along well enough for the party not to be torturous.

When dinner is finished, Jaskier’s parents invite them to the living room. There, a piano awaits, and Jaskier launches into a short performance that leaves everyone spell-bound, including Geralt, even though it hurts.

It hurts to watch Jaskier’s fingers dance over the keys, knowing the way in which those beautiful hands touch his body. It hurts to see the tempting curve of Jaskier’s neck, knowing how Jaskier always gasps when he kisses it. It hurts to watch Jaskier shine because he believed that he had a part of Jaskier’s light to himself.

And yet. Now, there’s the ugly thought at the back of his head that it wasn’t true. Jaskier did claim it was.

And yet.

The moment the performance ends, Geralt decides to survive by sticking with Silvio. Rozalia’s husband is talkative but what he loves chattering about the most is the cats and dogs he’s fostering with his wife. He shows Geralt pictures and videos, which improves Geralt’s mood slightly.

After Triss and Nasir steal Silvio away, Geralt is left alone, sitting in the corner of the room with his glass of wine. On instinct, his eyes search for his daughter. He finds her talking to Jaskier’s sister and frowns.

He loves Ciri more than life itself but he’s aware that she’s can be a right brat. He’s also familiar with Amelia and Rozalia enough to know that they’re very likely to be charmed by Cirilla’s vicious streak. Jaskier seems to know it too, and he appears genuinely terrified as he watches his sisters chat with Ciri, the three smiling mysteriously.

Then, Yennefer joins them, and Geralt is... _apprehensive_.

The party goes on. Some people, like his brothers, leave Geralt in peace. Others, such as Jaskier’s parents, insist on speaking to him. He picks his way through the, admittedly polite and pleasant, conversations, until no one wants to talk to him.

All the while, his gaze strays to Jaskier. Geralt watches him joke with Essi and Vesemir, laugh at something Lambert and Eskel are saying, take his niece into his arms and coo at her with Aiden by his side.

As Geralt observes Jaskier hold little Zofia and smile at her lovingly while Aiden makes funny faces at her, he suddenly comes to understand how tightly Jaskier has managed to weave himself in between all the threads that make Geralt’s life. All his family know Jaskier and accept him. Most of them are fond of him, or downright adore him. Geralt’s thoughts and memories of the sea are mingled with Jaskier’s songs. He doesn’t miss being at sea as much as he feared in large part due to Jaskier engaging him in his own life. Jaskier _knows_ him, like a true friend does.

Removing him from the tapestry would leave a jagged hole, and Geralt realises that it’s not something he’d _ever_ want. After all, he doesn’t have a particular place where he belongs. His home is where his loved ones are.

And he loves Jaskier so.

It’s ten minutes to midnight when Jaskier approaches him for the first time since the argument. Geralt still sits on the couch without any company as Jaskier stands before him, clearly putting up a happy face.

“I love the way you just... sit in the corner and brood,” he remarks, his cheerfulness falling flat,

Geralt rolls his eyes, irritated. “I’m here to drink alone,” he grunts. 

Jaskier, of course, refuses to take the hint and sits down beside him. Before Geralt can protest it, though, loud giggles catch his attention. He looks at the source of the sound and sees Ciri and Dara laughing at something on their phones (a meme, Geralt assumes). Joy at seeing his daughter’s happiness fill him but then Jaskier’s voice snaps him back to reality.

“If you say that you don’t believe me,” he says, “what must Dara think?”

Geralt looks at him sharply and immediately understands the sadness in his eyes. He’s aware of how much Jaskier wants Dara to know that all he’s done to help the boy – putting his career on hold to care for him, providing for him, going to therapy with him – are driven by genuine willingness to help, not pity or charity.

“Maybe I’m not good at...” Jaskier goes on, a wry smile twisting his lips, “Well. This whole... guardian thing.”

“You are,” Geralt replies.

It _is_ true. Dara agreed to say with Jaskier eight months ago. The boy is still grieving and struggling but Jaskier has been supporting him through it with surprisingly few missteps.

“Thank you,” Jaskier answers, uncharismatically timid.“I... Geralt,” he begins, his tone sombre.

Geralt tenses and waits. His free hand, the one not holding the wine glass, clenches into a fist. 

“I’m sorry for withholding the truth from you for so long, I was...” Jaskier swallows. “Stupid. It was wrong of me, and I... I promise it won’t happen again.”

He looks away and considers, even though there isn’t much to wonder about. There’s no coming back from how important Jaskier is to him, for better or for worse. His hurt is far from mended but Geralt nods. Jaskier heaves a sigh and lays his hand atop Geralt clenched fist.

“Will you stay?” Jaskier murmurs.

A memory strikes him – of how Jaskier asked him the same thing almost three years ago as they stood outside this very house.

In the background, the countdown begins. Geralt unclenches his fist and takes Jaskier’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. Jaskier squeezes back and the New Year starts.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I like pain :) 
> 
> Coming next: some stag do(s) silliness. 
> 
> What did you think about this chapter? Please toss a comment if you'd like 💛💙


	4. IV - A Surprise Discovery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter count went up again, fuck. I just feel like one more chapter is needed before we get to the wedding, I hope you all don't mind :D 
> 
> Info for this chapter that I should mention:  
> \- When Geralt was away on the deployment, Jaskier talked Eskel and his friend Essi into going out together. The two started dating and Jaskier started heralding himself as the best matchmaker out there... until, a moment later, Geralt pointed out that Lambert is a better matchmaker because he made Jaskier and Geralt meet. This matchmaking rivalry between Jaskier and Lambert is also talked about here. 
> 
> Enjoy! 💕

Geralt is certain that a stag do shouldn’t involve this much crying.

The evening started innocently enough. They have had a room rented at a fancy club and they’re drinking, talking and playing cards. Geralt would rather do this at home but Lambert and Eskel told him not to be so “tragically boring”, hence the current arrangement.

Geralt’s been spending the day with “the guys”: Eskel, Lambert, Aiden, Vesemir, as well as his soon-to-be brother-in-law Silvio and not-quite soon-to-be brother-in-law Nasir. Jaskier, on the other hand, is away partying with “the girls”: Rozalia, Amelia, Triss, Essi and Yennefer.

Geralt hasn’t heard from Jaskier in a few hours, so he assumes his soon-to-be husband (only two months left to the wedding, and isn’t _that_ a thought) is enjoying himself. Geralt, for his part, is having fun too; the stag do isn’t a disaster at all.

Then, it gets _better_.

Because Eskel is crying.

They were talking about Essi, commenting on what a lovely person she is. Although she’s not exactly Geralt’s type (he’s into people who are more... feisty), he still agrees that she’s a great woman – loving, warm, intelligent and beautiful inside out. Vesemir commented that there had to be many people mourning the fact that she was taken.

Eskel, upon hearing this, started _weeping_.

“Should we tell him?” Aiden, sitting beside Geralt, murmurs to Lambert.

“Nah,” Lambert replies gleefully.

They watch as Eskel sheds tears, mumbling about how much he’s in love with Essi but he wouldn’t dare to ruin her current relationship because she deserves happiness and –

To be fair, they _have_ drunk a lot at this point.

Silvio and Nasir are clearly holding back their laughter. Lambert doesn’t even bother and guffaws freely, to which Eskel pays no mind, so lost he is in his despair. Aiden hides his face in the crook of Lambert’s neck, his shoulders shaking.

Vesemir seems more tired and sick of their shit than usual, though sparks of amusement dance in his eyes.

“I wasn’t aware this relationship makes you cry,” he tells Eskel gruffly, playing along.

“It does!” Eskel whines, “ _I_ should be her boyfriend.”

Vesemir’s lips tremor but he manages to keep his cool as he asks, “And what’s her boyfriend’s name?”

Eskel opens his mouth to respond but he says nothing. His brow creases in thought – it’s visible how the wheels are turning in his head – and then the moment comes when something clicks in his brain.

“ _Wait_ ,” he says, understanding slowly dawning in his face.

At this, everyone at the table collectively loses it. Geralt is laughing so hard he’s slapping his thigh. Silvio and Nasir are in convulsions. Lambert and Aiden are leaning against each other, wheezing. Vesemir has to wipe the tears out of his eyes.

Eskel is too happy at the discovery to even notice the amusement at his expense. “I am her boyfriend!” he exclaims with wonder. Letting out a joyful chuckle, he repeats, “I’m her boyfriend!” He reaches for the bottle of vodka on the table. “We should drink to this!”

At the same time, Vesemir answers, “ _No._ ” and Aiden replies, “ _Yes!_ ”

Vesemir plucks the bottle from Eskel’s hands and says, “You’ve had enough for now, pup.”

Lambert starts arguing and Geralt rolls his eyes. He then proceeds to drag his older brother to the side and force a lot of water and some food into him. While he does this baby-sitting, the phone in his pocket rings. As Geralt pulls it out, he’s surprised to find Jaskier’s name displayed on the screen. Slightly worried, he picks up.

“Hey, my loveliest sailor,” Jaskier slurs, his voice unsteady and watery. “Can I –” A sniff. “Can I come?”

Geralt frowns, bemused. “Shouldn’t we spent this night apart?”

“Fuck that,” Jaskier grumbles, “I miss you.”

“You haven’t seen me in five hours.”

“So?” Jaskier asks. “I just... want to see you. Please?”

Jaskier sounds downright miserable. Geralt has nearly come to terms with the fact that he may never master the art of telling Jaskier no but he's not fully resigned to his fate yet.

“Okay,” he answers.

“Are sure, darling? I won’t come if you don’t want to, you know,” Jaskier babbles nervously, “I don’t want to make you do anything you–”

“Jaskier,” Geralt sighs, “it’s fine, come here and bring the rest.”

Ever since their argument three months ago, Jaskier takes extreme care not to do anything without Geralt’s knowledge and consent. He keeps asking about every little idea, fretting and worrying whether he’s not overstepping. Most days, that’s the reassurance Geralt needs to keep believing in Jaskier's words. It does get tiring sometimes, though.

“All right.” Jaskier’s voice goes from resonating from the darkest depths of sadness to cheerful as the sun on a spring day in the span of those two words. “We’ll be there soon, my dearest.”

Geralt hums and hangs up.

After fifteen minutes more of trying to turn Eskel into a more or less functioning human being, Geralt witnesses the other stag do party members arrive. Jaskier opens the door to the room with a bang, his arms spread wide and a grin on his face.

“Geralt!” he exclaims and walks towards him with a prominent stagger in his step.

Before Geralt knows it, he has his arms full of drunk Jaskier. His fiancé peppers kisses all over his face and mumbles something nonsensical while Geralt holds him up, a smile tugging at his lips under all the loving attention.

In the corner of his eye, he can see the rest greeting each other, apart from Yennefer and Triss, who are watching him and Jaskier with a judgemental and an amused look respectively.

“Why are you here?” he asks Yen as Jaskier finally stops kissing him and embraces him instead.

“He was crying about how much he loves you,” she replies with an eye roll.

Triss snickers. “He was telling everyone about it, and I mean it. He wanted _everyone_ in the club to know.”

Geralt stifles a groan, pinching the bridge of his nose. Yennefer and Triss laugh. Jaskier raises his head and blinks up at him owlishly.

“Something wrong, my gorgeous sailor?” he asks.

Geralt really bemoans the fact that even a single look from Jaskier can affect him considerably.

“No, siren,” he sighs, “We should join the rest.”

They ask the staff to bring another table and more chairs, and soon, everyone is sitting comfortably, talking, playing and drinking. Everyone except Essi when it comes to the last part, at least; Geralt quickly notices that she doesn’t touch any alcohol. She claims that she simply doesn’t feel like drinking but Eskel, who sits beside her, starts fretting, concerned that she’s ill.

“I’m fine,” she assures him.

“You sure?” he asks, “You haven’t been feeling well recently. Maybe you should see a doctor?”

Geralt’s the only one watching the exchange, as everybody else is occupied with the ongoing conversation about the rules of Monopoly. He sees hesitation in Essi’s face. She bits her lip, seemingly considering something for a moment, but then looks up at Eskel and smiles. “I think I should,” she replies, “seeing that I’m pregnant.”

Geralt freezes in shock. Eskel’s brain visibly short-circuits.

“The fuck. But we –” he stammers out, “Why, I mean, _how_ –” 

“I don’t know,” Essi answers, her eyes wide and apprehensive, “I really have no idea.”

Eskel nods slowly, his expression still absolutely flabbergastered. “ _Fuck_ ,” he says, with much feeling.

Essi looks at him closely, uncertainty colouring her lovely face. “I know this _very_ unexpected and you never wanted a family but perhaps we can... talk about it? We don’t have to keep it but I –”

Eskel seems to finally snap out of his shocked state. “Essi, _no_ ,” he says quietly, taking her face in his hands, “I never _let_ myself have a family, but now that the baby is here... _Holy fuck_ ,” he breathes out, one of his palms moving to touch her abdomen. “There’s _a baby_ here?” he asks, his voice cracking. She nods with a watery smile, and he takes her into his arms. His whole frame is shaking now, and there’re tears in his eyes. “ _A baby,_ ” he chokes out. His tear fall but his whole face is alight with joy. 

Suddenly, Geralt’s throat is tight. He knows that Eskel never considered himself a father material because of all the issues he’s been battling since his childhood, just like Geralt and Lambert. Although he was quite a ladies man in his youth, he never allowed any relationship to get serious. Years passed like this, and Eskel’s now in his early forties, which _is_ rather late to become a dad. Essi is six years younger than him, so it’s not early for parenthood for her either.

Yet, they both seem so _happy_ now, and Geralt can’t get enough of seeing his brother like this, smiling and crying as he holds Essi and kisses her.

The rest of the table finally catches on that there’s something important happening. Then, the news is out, which brings their celebration to new heights. Jaskier is so happy and satisfied with himself that Geralt suspects his chest may soon burst from how much Jaskier puffs up with pride. 

“See?” Jaskier tells Lambert, “I’m a better matchmaker than you!”

“I made a marriage happen!” Lambert replies.

“I made _a baby_ happen! Beat that!”

Lambert scoffs, the picture of unimpressed. “Maybe you and Geralt are gonna have kids too.”

“We’ve already got two,” Geralt answers without thinking.

Jaskier lets out a shocked gasp, staring at him in disbelief, and Geralt slowly understands what he said.

It’s not that it’s not untrue – they do have two children under their care. The thing is that neither Ciri nor Dara is very likely to call Jaskier their dad. Technically speaking, Jaskier _will_ soon become Ciri’s step-father, but Ciri sees him more as Geralt’s partner. In Dara’s eyes, Jaskier is a supportive, parental figure, yet it'd be foolish to think that the boy could ever consider himself Jaskier’s child. Geralt knows that Jaskier realises how silly that wish is but he still seems to hope for it, deep, deep down.

“ _Geralt_ –” he says, tears welling up in his eyes.

For a stag do – even two of them at once – it _is_ too much crying involved.

***

“Shoes _off_ , Geralt, honestly,” Jaskier complains, “Are you doing this on purpose every time?”

Geralt only grunts. His head is spinning, too much to be pleasant, and he doesn’t trust his mouth to form a dignified enough answer. Jaskier’s _very_ drunk too, so he doesn’t comment on Geralt’s response, or lack thereof.

The two of them slowly make their way towards the bedroom. Jaskier’s house is rather large, though, and they’re many objects and corners they stumble into. The rucksack they’re causing makes them snicker but their amusement is cut short when walk by the living room – Ciri and Dara are there, sitting on the couch in front of the TV and observing the two of them with _delight_.

“What are you two doing up?” Jaskier slurs out, “It’s...” he looks at his hand, where a watch should be, but there isn’t. “It’s late.”

“We found an interesting show on TV,” Ciri replies innocently. Geralt doesn’t believe it for a minute.

“Well, sleep is important!” Jaskier exclaims, gesturing dramatically with the hand he doesn’t use to hold on to Geralt. “Go to bed!”

“Yes, Jaskier,” Dara answers.

“Young people like you should get a lot of sleep.”

“We know, Jaskier,” Ciri sighs.

Jaskier would go on about the significance of sleep for teenagers if he was allowed, so Geralt starts dragging him away. Before they disappear behind the corner, though, he turns back to Ciri and Dara, shooting them what he hopes is a withering look.

“Show’s over,” he growls out.

Ciri and Dara have the decency to look chastised.

Arriving in the bedroom successfully takes them a few more minutes. When they finally do, they go straight to the bed, not bothering to undress. Then, they’re kissing, messy and eager, but their bodies have a problem rising up to the challenge because of the copious amount of alcohol flowing through their veins. Jaskier breaks the kiss quickly anyway, saying that he’s about to be sick, and rushes to the bathroom. 

After Geralt is left alone, he tries to process all the holy fucks of the day, primarily the reveal that Eskel is going to be a father and by extension, Geralt’s going to be an _uncle_. Then there’s the very fact that he _marries Jaskier_ in two months. Geralt also has a memory of seeing Yennefer and Triss kissing during the party, and _that_ is a lot to unpack as well.

The world is spinning as he lays in bed. He registers Jaskier returning and laying down beside him before he falls asleep.

It feels like no time passed at all when Geralt and Jaskier are waken up by _noise_. The loud thumping bores down into his skull, causing awful, throbbing pain. He sits up, groaning, and Jaskier does the same with a whimper.

Then, they hear Jaskier’s voice sing the first verses of _Her Sweet Kiss_ and, suffice it to say, Geralt has had enough of that gods-damned fucking song and its techno remix especially.

“ _CIRILLA!_ ” Geralt bellows.

“ _DARA!_ ” Jaskier yells.

After a torturous minute, the music is turned off, but there’s no blessed silence. Instead, bright laughter reaches their ears. Geralt huffs, irritated, and checks the time on his phone. The fact that it’s one o’clock in the afternoon and that there’s a glass of water placed on his bedside table redeems Ciri and Dara slightly.

“Fucking hell,” Jaskier moans, messaging his temples, “I love my life.”

Strangely enough, there isn’t an ounce of sarcasm in Jaskier’s voice. Geralt turns to watch him closely, taking in his pale face, chapped lips and the grimace of pain twisting his features. “You do?” he asks. 

Jaskier looks at him, the blue of his eyes as beautiful as always. “I do,” he answers softly, “My life is so much better with you in it.”

Warmth explodes in his chest and Geralt moves closer, kissing Jaskier on the mouth, the cheek, the nose, hoping to convey what he finds himself unable to say. Jaskier responds to the affection with a happy hum, angling his face so get more kisses. Geralt indulges him gladly, pecking him on his forehead, his brows, under his eyes, down his neck.

“So much better indeed,” Jaskier purrs.

Geralt chuckles. “That _is_ thanks to Lambert.”

“Oh _shut up_.”

Jaskier’s grumble is so grumpy that Geralt can’t help but laugh. Jaskier carries on grouching about being better than Lambert, and it keeps making Geralt laugh. 

He couldn’t be more glad that he’s stayed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Y'all, I just... Eskel is gonna be a dad, I - 🥺🥺🥺 He's 43 now, just like Geralt, but damn, he's gonna be such a good dad ❤️
> 
> This AU has basically turned into: those who want to have kids get them unexpectedly and those who don't want them don't have them, and everyone is chill about both. Also, this is a totally escapist AU in which all the global issues we're facing do not apply, so the little babies and the older kiddos have a bright future ahead of them! :D 
> 
> In my mind, Essi Daven resembles the talented, sweet and lovely Karen Fukuhara. (Seriously, I think Karen's performance in "The Boys" is amazing). 
> 
> Anyway, hope you liked this 💛💙❤️


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